


Sweet Creature

by midnightweeds



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Drabble, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Multi, OT3, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10977900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightweeds/pseuds/midnightweeds
Summary: "The world is right again, here and now. We can put all of this down. Finally. We've gotten Thomas back, James."He let go of Thomas' shirt, eyes falling closed at the feel of Thomas' lips against his shoulder as Miranda led him into the back room."Let's get ourselves back, too."





	Sweet Creature

**Author's Note:**

> trying to get back into my ot3 angels

"Do you smell that?" She asked.

Thomas sighed. It felt like the first time she'd spoken in weeks.

He closed his eyes, brushing a wet cloth across his brow before turning his face toward the bed. Miranda had rolled onto her side, facing where he stood by the dresser, but her eyes were still closed, and her shoulder slumped into her chest in exhaustion. The relief he'd felt swell in his stomach bottomed out at the sight.

He dipped the cloth into a bowl of water and sat down on the edge of the bed.

The air was hot and wet, even in their room, and Thomas could smell little more than the moist warmth of the dirt.

Still, he asked, "Smell what, my love?"

"It's sweet," she told him at a whisper.

He rested the cloth against her neck and combed his fingers through her hair. After braiding it away from her face, he pressed her onto her back and watched the storm that passed beneath her eyelids before wiping her face clean. He prayed, too. That she would regain her strength.

For a miracle, really. Because every day felt as though they strayed furthered from god, from his light and his grace. Another disaster he'd brought upon them.

A knock at the door jolted them both, her fingers gripping lightly at his thigh. He soothed her quietly, hands gentle against her throat and shoulders, watching as she murmured, "It's getting closer," mouth working as though she could taste it.

Thomas resisted thinking. He didn't understand, and he didn't want to, for fear that it would take her away from him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Miranda?" He questioned, but she didn't reply.

As he left for the day, she said, "The ocean." 

* * *

 If anyone told James-

Well, he wouldn't have believed them, anyway.

Not then, when cool silk and soft hands helped to pull him into the startling romance of life and love he'd never known London could provide. And especially not now, now when even the devil had abandoned him.

But, it was Thomas, with sunburnt skin and calloused palms and chapped lips that met his cheeks with no hesitation. Thomas, who fit just the same against him- a man, a monster, he could barely make sense of these days-, as though nothing had changed. As though life and time did not separate them. As though eyes couldn't see.

He sucked in a ragged breath, feeling Thomas' hands against the back of his neck.

Thomas, who kissed just as surely, as though he couldn't feel that James wasn't James anymore.

"Is this," James started, and Thomas kissed him again, hands smoothing over his face and into his hair. "Real," James breathed, forehead against his lover's. He felt lost, suspended in a state of reality he'd only reached once before.

Before awaking on a shore he never wanted to reach. Before realizing that there was life left. Before, when he'd wanted nothing more than the sink into the bottom of the ocean and die.

But, Thomas was cradling his jaw with familiar hands. With hands he'd loved and worshipped and missed.

"Is this real?" James asked again, his voice a choked whisper.

"It's hell if it isn't," Thomas replied, hugging James to his chest as he observed the collection of people watching them. "God wouldn't have made us wait so long in death."

"Wouldn't he?" James questioned, but his voice was muffled against Thomas' chest. He clung to him, fingers gripping at the rough fabric of his shirt, afraid to let go. To look at him, even.

One of the guard's signaled Thomas, and he took James' hand, following the small group back to the living quarters.

A man he didn't recognize said, "You've three days before the decision is made," and James straightened, stiffening in a way that told Thomas he'd forgotten about the others.

He stepped ahead of Thomas, as though to shield him, and nodded stiffly.

The guard said, "You've been granted time off," before the group turned to leave, and James crumbled when they were alone, his exhaustion plainly written.

Thomas supported him, arms around James as they climbed the two steps into his home. They sat in the small sitting room, on a chair barely big enough for one of them, and Thomas realized that James was crying, body slumped and heavy against his. He pulled him closer, hands firm against the warm, dark fabric of James' shirt, kissing his hair comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," he was saying. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I- For everything. I'm so sorry. I love you."

"I love you," Thomas repeated. "I love you, James, and you've nothing to be sorry for.

"We tried, my love. In a London that was not yet ready for a love like ours. But we are here now, and we're okay."

He sobered, very barely, looking Thomas in the eye as he said, "I killed her- Miranda. I'm so sorry, Thomas."  
Thomas continued to rub James' shoulder, confusedly asking, "What?"

"Peter," James said, as though it explained.

It did, of course, and Thomas began to piece together what Miranda had struggled to tell him when she'd shown up to the plantation, her gown spotted and dirty and skin colored with what he could now only assume was blood.

"In Charleston," James continued. "I'm sorry. I left her- I shouldn't have," he choked again. "She could be here, maybe, but I-"

"I'm here."

James jolted away from Thomas, leaning against the wall behind him for support. His eyes were wide as the bounced back and forth between the couple.

Thomas stood as well, turning to look at Miranda. She looked no better than she has when he left, dressed in an old shirt and trousers, but her eyes were open and focused, and she was standing in the doorway, leaning against it for support.

"How," James looked between them before looking down at his hands. He touched his chest and his head, breath coming short and quick. "My god. I'm truly dead. He killed me-"

"No," Miranda corrected. She took an uncertain step into the front room, a place she hadn't ventured since arriving, and Thomas moved to help her, kissing her hand fondly as they crossed the small space to James.

She took James' hands, pressing his palms to their hearts and settling hers over his. "Don't you feel that? Can you see it now?"

"I saw you," he breathed, gaze wondrous.

"I cannot explain it. I…found myself here, with Thomas. We've…been waiting."

She was leaning heavily into her husband, eyes dark and imploring, and James lifted his hand from her chest to her face. His thumb smoothed over her cheek as he took her jaw in his palm, and she moved to hold his wrist, still tucked against Thomas' side.

"I saw you, too," she told him quietly. "On the boat. In-"

"The mansion," he continued when she frowned confusedly. At her smile, soft and content, he said, "They called you a witch," startling Thomas. "Do you remember?"

For the briefest of moments, he got a glimpse of who they'd been without him.

Miranda smiled more surely, tucking her chin as color crept into her cheeks, and Thomas felt his chest tightening, life returning to his body.

"Quite well," she remarked. "Perhaps their belief in me brought me here."

James' lips curled, almost into a smile, and he stepped away from the wall, his arms circling the pair as he pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled the warm scent of her skin.

Thomas drew his arms around them both as well, kissing their hair, and James continued to cry, having forgotten what it was like to be known and to be loved.

Thomas took a deep breath of them, realizing that it was different from before.

There was the ocean there, salty and sweet and cool; more powerful than he could see. They'd been through more than he could fathom, but they'd found their way back to him, and he'd found himself whole for the first time since they'd taken him from Miranda's arms.

He would fight for and protect them. He would shoulder their pain and suffering, the exhaustion that was draped so heavily around them, and allow them the safety he was certain neither of them had felt for some time- not that he had found any, but they were two halves of a love he had missed and mourned and craved and damned with his own drunken tenderness.

There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep them this time.

"We have to leave here," he told them.

Miranda's arm snaked around his waist, and James' hold tightened.

"In three days, regardless of the decision made, we will," James promised, hand lifting to hold Miranda's head to his chest when she leaned into him. His eyes met Thomas' as she hummed her agreement, and fell closed when Thomas leaned in for a kiss.

"Rest," Thomas said, pushing them both toward the bedroom.

James had fisted Thomas' shirt again, hesitant to let go.

He kissed him again. "I will join you both later. Please, get some rest."

At James' continued hesitation, Miranda took his hand, "I don't know what you're expecting to happen in three days, but if it requires running, you and I are in no shape to." She touched him with her free hand, nails dragging against the hair at his nape. "The world is right again, here and now. We can put all of this down. Finally. We've gotten Thomas back, James."

He let go of Thomas' shirt, eyes falling closed at the feel of Thomas' lips against his shoulder as Miranda led him into the back room.

"Let's get ourselves back, too."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading<3
> 
> If you enjoy my writing, it'd mean a lot to me if you followed my new tumblr _honeyweeds_ , it's dedicated to fics and I'd really love to take requests. Drop a line letting me know you're a fan of _Sweet Creature_ and I'll write you a mini OT3 (or any of the Black Sails crew) moment.
> 
> I'll also be following blogs back! Link is on profile.


End file.
